


The Bet

by EriWritesDrarry



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bets, Drarry, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-03-29 09:48:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13924605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EriWritesDrarry/pseuds/EriWritesDrarry
Summary: "I made a bet" -Harry Potter, not realizing what he was getting into. Again.This was originally posted on my Tumblr in multiple parts.





	1. Chapter 1

Harry dropped his bag, letting it sprawl out messily on the ground beside Ron and Hermione. He fell back and landed on the couch, draping his arm over his eyes dramatically.

“Harry, honestly.” Hermione rolled her eyes as she quickly shoved an array of parchment and quills back into it.

“What’s with the theatrics, Mate?” Ron asked through a full mouth. He seemed to have brought a to-go plate with him from the feast.

“I can’t do this.”

“Do what?”

“I made a bet.”

Ron’s eyes widened. He scooted closer, looking eager. “About what?”

“It's…” Harry hesitated.

Hermione sighed and turned back to her homework. “Just tell him, Harry.”

“You know?” Ron asked, sounding slightly offended. “Well, gee, thanks for letting me in on it.”

“I just heard it as a rumor. Don’t get mad.”

“I’m not mad…” Ron said, although he was pouting a bit.

“Wait, it's spreading about the school?” Harry sat up straighter.

“Apparently,” Hermione said nonchalantly, still scribbling on her parchment.

“What is?” Ron said exasperatedly.

“Dean bet that I… That I couldn’t get Malfoy to go on a date with me by the end of the week.”

Ron blinked, at a loss for words. “… You-”

“Here it comes,” Hermione said under her breath.

“You’re trying to ask out Malfoy?” Ron exclaimed a bit too loudly. A few students turned their heads, but otherwise, the common room was relatively empty.

“Ron!” Said Harry.

“Sorry, sorry.” Ron looked around, slightly ashamed. “But I thought you were dating that other bloke I set you up with. Also,” His face contorted in disgust, “Malfoy?”

“I know, I know.” Harry mirrored his expression. “But Seamus said that I could get any guy I wanted, which made Dean mad, so he said I couldn’t get anyone. Then Seamus said, ‘Name one bloke he couldn’t get,’ so Dean bet him I couldn’t get a date with Malfoy.

“And, I’m sorry, Ron, but I never ended up going on the date you set up.”

Ron looked hurt, “Why not?”

“I just-”

“Wait, wait,” Hermione intervened, the conversation finally piquing her interest. “This isn’t even your own bet?”

“Er….”

“Oh, Harry.”

“They forced me into it!”

“You could have gotten out of it, mate.” Ron shook his head.

“Maybe he didn’t want to,” Hermione ventured.

“Wha-?”

Ron wrinkled his nose, “Harry, tell me it’s not true.”

“It’s not!”

Hermione smirked, “Of course.”

“I do not want to go on a date with-”

Suddenly, Hermione squeezed his knee tightly, making him yelp.

“Merlin, Hermione, that hurts!”

“Shush!” She whispered, glancing towards the common room entrance.

Harry turned to see Malfoy ducking in, a few school books in hand. He caught sight of the group, but quickly stuck his nose in the air, walking towards the dorm rooms.

Harry heard Ron whisper behind him, “Think he knows about the bet?” and watched as the pink in Malfoy cheeks brightened to a deep red. He quickened his pace, disappearing around the corner.

“… Yeah.” Harry murmured.

There was a pause as Harry continued to stare at the spot where Malfoy vanished. Hermione cleared her throat.

“So… What now, mate?” Ron asked.

Harry turned back to them, a slight pink creeping up his neck.

“I think I need to help Seamus win that bet.”


	2. Chapter 2

“What are you staring at?”

Draco made a small noise in the back of his throat, not entirely registering the question. “Hm?”

“I think he’s staring at Potter.” Pansy snickered.

“Probably wondering when the git will ask him out.” Draco could hear the smirk in Blaise’s voice.  That got his attention.

“Oh, piss off.” Draco snapped at them. He looked back down at his breakfast, picking at his eggs with his fork. Not eating. How could he when that ridiculous rumor was going around? Potter. Ask  _him_  on a date? Who in their right mind would want that, anyhow?

Draco glanced back at the speckled git. Something flipped inside his stomach.

“Damnit,” He mumbled to himself. He could feel Blaise and Pansy still looking at him. He ignored them, but they were persistent.

“Don’t get your hopes up, Draco.”

“Yeah, even if he  _did_  ask you out, it would be for the bet.” Pansy stabbed at a piece of sausage. “Who would want to be at the end of that horror show?”

Draco’s face fell. He forgot about that part. Quickly regaining his composure, he sniffed haughtily. “Please, like I care if that prick asks me out.”

“He’s practically all you talk about-”

“Piss off, Pansy. He is not.”

“Oh, so those three hours I spent yesterday listening to you analyze every single look Potter gave you was for my benefit?” Pansy sneered.

“I- Wha-” Draco shifted his volume to a harsh whisper, “ _It was not three hours._ ”

Pansy rolled her eyes. “Fine. Four hours.”

“Pansy!”

“But face it,” She jabbed her fork at him, “You like the idea of Potter being forced to ask you out.”

Draco opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off quickly, “Swear it on your mother’s grave!”

Draco quickly snapped his mouth shut.

“Have to tell the truth now, babe,” Blaise spoke up nonchalantly as he read the paper.

“Ugh, you and the mother swearing. Merlin.” Draco grumbled. He shook his head in defeat. “Fine. I may be the teensy tiniest bit happy that Potter may be sort of challenged to ask me out.”

“Ha!”

“But! Only because I’ll be able to turn him down.” Draco said smugly.

“Draco, I said swear!” Pansy looked disgusted with him. “You would disrespect your mother’s grave like that?”

“I do swear! Turning him down would be the most satisfying thing ever.” Draco swooned at the thought. “Show him his place, quite honestly.”

“Also,” Blaise actually raised his eyes this time, “Because if he is really serious about the bet, he has to ask you until you agree. Which means you’ll be getting all the more attention from him and every other nosey git here.”

Draco gaped at him, but Blaise merely cocked an eyebrow before looking back to his paper.

“Oooh,” Pansy giggled. “He got you good.”

“He did not!”

“I think I did.”

Draco crossed his arms, not bothering with the pretense of eating this time. His two friends snickered at him (well, Pansy giggled. Blaise just… turned the corners of his mouth a bit.), but he ignored them. Blaise was right. He did want to turn Potter down a few times… But a thought occurred to him. If Potter really was serious about the bet, wouldn’t that mean he would have to say yes to Potter eventually? Would Potter even enjoy a date with him? Oh, Merlin. What if he made the date horrible on purpose? Draco didn’t think his heart could take that.

He looked up again. Potter was fidgeting in his seat, his two friends (and the gits were sitting way too close to him, in Draco’s opinion) talking excitedly on either side of him. They seemed to be asking him questions because every time they paused he would shake his head or respond. At some point, they got so into the conversation they left Potter behind. Apparently, the boy who lived isn’t interesting enough to the world’s most boring people. Draco smirked. Then, Potter was suddenly looking at him. He glanced up, nervously. Yet hopefully (making Draco realize with an internal groan that he stared at Potter the same way). When their eyes met, Potter’s eyes widened. Draco quickly looked back to his abandoned food, not wanting to see the rest of his reaction. He glared at his eggs.

 _You will_  not  _go on that date, Draco Malfoy_ , He thought to himself.  _You definitely, definitely, definitely-_

He glanced up once more, just to check. Their eyes met again. Even from the other side of the Great Hall, they were so agonizingly green. Draco gulped.

_Wont._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you don't want to wait, feel free to read the rest on my blog: I-see-my-otps-in-erised.tumblr.com


	3. Chapter 3

"Okay, so if we do it like this-"

"No, no, no. Hermione, please. Like you would know-"

"Excuse me, Ron. I know plenty-"

"Oh, really? Because suddenly kissing a guy in the middle of a war isn't exactly asking them out."

"Oh, shut it." Hermione blushed, but otherwise looked proud of herself. She turned to Harry. "What do you think, Harry?"

Harry didn't respond. He was still looking off to the Slytherin table. By this time Malfoy had stopped meeting his eye and was now angrily talking to his friends. 

"Harry?"

"Er…" He finally released his gaze on Malfoy. "All those ideas sound great…"

Hermione crossed her arms, "Really? Which ones?"

"Uhm-"

"Harry, mate. We're trying to help you out here." Ron chastised. It sounded all too much like Hermione for his taste.

"I'm sorry! I just… Maybe I shouldn't even do this."

"What?" The two said in unison. A couple of students around them gave them funny looks. "Oh, mind your own." They snapped at them. Again. In unison.

"You're both getting creepy." Harry grimaced.

"We're getting creepy?" Ron raised an eyebrow. "What about you, Mister Suddenly-Super-Into-Mal-"

"Ron!" Harry shushed him.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Oh, please. I saw this coming."

"How?" Ron turned on her. "Why?"

She looked at him, unimpressed. "Ron. Sixth year."

"Ooh… Okay, yeah."

"I thought he was a bloody Death-!" He stopped short at their amused faces. "Piss off."

"Okay, seriously, though. Bet. Yes or no?" Ron asked the two of them.

"Yes." Hermione nodded.

"No." Harry crossed his arms.

"You're really back and forth with this, Harry. You don't want to do it, you do want to do it…" Ron said.

"I-" Harry started.

"He's afraid that asking Malfoy out as a bet would make it seem like it didn't count as an actual date. Or, that Malfoy will reject him. He's also afraid that he might actually have genuine feelings for his archnemesis, rather than any other person in the world, much less at this school." Hermione smiled sweetly and took a bite of her toast. "Unless I'm wrong."

Harry narrowed his eyes at her but otherwise said nothing.

"You're so smart, 'Mione." Ron cooed, looking at her dreamily.

"Thank you, love." She replied, mirroring his expression.

"Ugh, okay. Fine. Bet: yes. Now help me decide what to do." Harry said, wishing to Merlin he wasn't in between them.

"Okay, so, I say you just ask him right out," Hermione suggested, looking back to Harry.

"What? 'Mione, please. Malfoy is way too prideful to just agree to a date like that," Ron said matter-of-factly. "If anything, we have to mess with his head. He's expecting Harry to ask him out, yeah? So ignore him. Then, little by little, ask him small stuff, but make a big deal of it."

Ron clasped his own hands together and feigned a look of innocence. "'Malfoy? Mind if I ask you something?' Then turn it around and just ask him if he dropped his quill or if he knows the homework for potions. Eventually, he'll get so mad he'll basically ask you out. Which works, since the bet is about the date, not how you get it."

Ron grinned at them, proudly, but his expression slowly morphed to confusion at their faces, "What?"

"Ron…" Hermione said breathily, unsure of how to react. "That… Was really thought out."

"Are… Are you sure you don't want to date Malfoy?" Harry started to smirk.

"Wha-?" Ron's face went red immediately. "Piss off! George and Fred gave me that relationship book, remember? When I was trying to date 'Mione."

Harry snickered, "That book was brilliant."

"Ugh, and it worked…" Hermione rolled her eyes. Then she gasped. "Oh, Merlin… Harry. It worked."

"Yeah? What are you getting at?" Harry was still smiling cheekily at Ron, who was currently trying to cover his face.

"Ron's plan to date me. It worked." Hermione looked at him meaningfully.

Harry's eyes widened, "Oh."

Ron looked up, his face still red, but now wearing a shit-eating grin. "Guess we go with my idea."

Harry smirked, punching him in the arm, "Better work, you prick."

Ron punched him back, "It will!"

Harry looked back at the Slytherin table. Malfoy was gone. An odd feeling clenched in his stomach. Somehow, he felt that ignoring Malfoy was easier said than done.


	4. Chapter 4

Draco was pissed. No. Beyond pissed. So infuriated that he didn't know what to do with himself. How long did it take for Potter to bloody get on with it? A few simple words. That's all. And somehow even the savior couldn't bloody handle that much. If they made eye contact down the hall, Potter would just simply turn away. If they were forced to be potions partners, he would only speak to him to ask for ingredients or to clarify an instruction. Merlin, even when Potter accidentally bumped into him, he just stepped over Draco's spilled books and continued on with his oh-so-charmed life.

"What. Is. He. Playing. At." Draco said through clenched teeth. Potter had just passed by them in the eighth year common room, only stopping to wave a hello to Pansy and Blaise, while conveniently ignoring Draco's desperate attempt to make eye contact.

Pansy snickered. "You're so dense."

"What?" Draco turned on her. 

"Aww, Blaise. Look. Coco is frustrated. That's cute."

"Pansy, I thought I vetoed 'Coco' from the nickname list." Draco's face soured.

"You've vetoed every nickname we've given you. I'm sticking with Coco."

"It's cute," Blaise smirked.

"Don't encourage her." Draco huffed, crossing his arms and looking towards the spot where Potter disappeared.

"You really have no idea what he's doing, do you?" Pansy sighed, almost in pity.

"He's not doing anything, Pansy!"

"Oh, Coco. It's tragic, really. Although, it is a smart plan on Potters part. I'm surprised he even thought of it at all. He's usually as oblivious as you."

"I'm not oblivious." 

"Hmm." Pansy and Blaise made the same unimpressed noise in unison.

"Oh, well, then do enlighten me, why don’t you?" Draco huffed once again. He needed more than two friends. They were starting to get on his nerves.

"It's obvious, isn't it-?" Pansy started, but quickly clamped her mouth shut at Blaise's sly smile and curt shake of the head.

"Let him figure it out," He said.

"What? No!" Draco pouted, "Pansy, please!"

"Sorry, Coco. This seems much more fun." Pansy grinned.

"He'll never get it, you know," Blaise gave out a breathy laugh.

Draco stood up quickly, stomping away, barely giving them a chance to apologize and beg him to sit back down. He only heard them laugh all the more as he headed for his dorm room.

\--

Harry nervously bounced his leg up and down. His fingernails tapped loudly against the desk he was seated at. At some point, Ron clamped his hand over Harry's, shooting him an annoyed look.

"What's eating you?" Ron said in a hushed voice. Professor Flitwick was giving a charms lecture. The only reason he hadn't noticed the two boys was because they were third to the last row of the room.

"Your plan isn't working." Harry murmured back. Harry had been purposefully ignoring Malfoy at every turn and it was excruciating. Once, he accidentally made Malfoy drop his books and was forced to just walk away! It took every ounce of willpower he had to walk away rather than immediately helping him. 

"It's only been a few days." Ron raised his eyebrows. "You've only just started phase one."

"There are phases, now?" Harry asked incredulously. He must have been a bit too loud, because Flitwick cleared his throat at them. Harry merely nodded with a quiet apology, but Flitwick seemed satisfied and continued with the lecture.

"What are you on about, 'phases'?" Harry turned back to Ron, his voice as low as it could be.

"Well, ignoring him can't be the only thing you do. That's not enough to get him to confront you." Ron said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Harry sighed. He really was spending too much time with Hermione.

"Then what's phase two?" Harry said, a bit annoyed.

"False alarms," Ron grinned.

"Huh?"

"You go up and act like you're about to ask him a big question, then just try to borrow his quill or notes or somethin' like that."

"That… Just seems like so much effort for barely doing anything." 

"Harry, don't you trust me?" Ron tried his best to look offended.

He rolled his eyes, "Yes, Ron. But-"

"Nope! Sorry, mate. You trust me, so you have to go along with it. If it fails, you do it your way, alright?"

Harry sighed, "Fine. Fine."

Ron smiled at him and lightly clapped his back. "Good on ya. Phase two commences tomorrow. Be ready."

Harry groaned, burying his head in his arms. "Who wouldn't be ready to ask for class notes or a bloody quill?"

"That's the spirit."


	5. Chapter 5

"Ron… You can't be serious." Hermione breathed.

"What?"

"That's just… Way too many phases."

Harry was staring at the parchment between the three of them. The paper was settled on a small library table in the corner, mostly hidden from sight. The parchment was scribbled on with messy handwriting and blotches of ink were splattered in random places. Ron looked confusedly at both of them.

"What's the issue?" Ron asked, glancing back at his handiwork.

"Ron," Harry said exasperatedly. "You have a phase fifteen that's only note is 'trip and catch'. What does that mean?"

"That-" Ron started.

"I honestly don't think you spent this much effort on trying to date me," Hermione looked perplexed. "And I can't tell if I'm offended or relieved."

"It's not-" Ron tried again.

"I think this is all too much for me. I should just ask him out." Harry said, biting the inside of his cheek in disappointment.

"Excuse me," Ron glared at the both of them. He grabbed his parchment and shook it in Harry's face. "I'm not expecting you to go through all the phases! These are just back-up phases until Malfoy cracks."

"Wow. Hermione really is rubbing off on you," Harry cocked an eyebrow.

"Oh, please," Hermione rolled her eyes. "He's only working so hard to get out of studying."

"We went through a war, 'Mione! I don't need any more essays!"

Harry laughed, "I agree with that."

He glanced back at the parchment and a phrase caught his eye. He grabbed the notes from Ron, looking closer to make sure he didn't imagine it.

"Make him jealous?"

"Yeah," Ron shrugged. "That's one of the most basic ways to get someone's attention."

"Only if the person would actually get jealous." Harry pointed out.

Hermione snorted and the two boys looked at her with surprise. She went a bit pink, but still put on her best 'Obviously' face. "Harry, please. Malfoy would get jealous of the quill you were holding if it meant he wasn’t getting attention from you."

Harry blinked. "Huh?"

"You think so, 'Mione?" Ron asked, genuinely curious.

"It's obvious."

"Hm… Now that you say so, Malfoy does seem to notice Harry more than others," Ron pondered. His eyes widened suddenly and he snatched the parchment out of Harry's hands. "This may change the phase sequence!"

"Wha-?" Harry could feel a flush creeping up his cheeks.

"Harry, don't be dense." Hermione chided. 

"I just don't really agree with what you're assuming," Harry said.

Ron glanced up at Harry, a suspicious look on his face. "I'm confused. Did you just start liking Malfoy? Or has it been a secret crush for a few years? By the way, I'm a bit put out that you kept this from me, mate. Don't think you're getting out of this one."

"I don't-!"

"Harry, stop. If you hate him so much, then call off the bet." Hermione offered.

"It's not even his bet!" Ron snickered. "It's Dean's and Seamus'."

"Maybe he should let it go. He doesn't seem to be fully in it." Hermione shrugged.

"But I spent so much work on the phases!" Ron pouted.

"You realize you have a potions essay."

"'Mione, please. I'm in mourning. All my hard work… Gone to waste." Ron pretended to sniffle at the thought.

Harry rolled his eyes. He glanced towards the center of the library when he heard a voice reach their table. Malfoy was leaning against one of the bookshelves, grinning at Parkinson. Harry pursed his lips before determinedly standing up.

"You want me to go through with it?" Harry whispered towards the two. "Fine."

"What are you doing?" Hermione looked bewildered.

"Phase. Three."

Harry heard Ron gasp with glee as he walked towards Malfoy, looking straight ahead. Harry didn't want to risk any distractions. 

Parkinson saw him first. She smirked and quickly waved a goodbye at Malfoy. Harry tentatively stopped right behind him, tapping him softly on the shoulder.

"Malfoy?"

Malfoy jumped, turning quickly towards him. He looked as though he wasn't sure what expression to wear. He eventually settled on angry.

"What do you want, Potter?"

"Er," Harry rubbed his neck, hoping it made him look as nervous as he actually was. "I was hoping I could ask you something."

Malfoy raised an eyebrow, the corner of his lip twitching. "Oh, really?"

"Yeah. It's just…" Harry sighed, looking at the floor. He hoped he was selling this. "It's a bit awkward considering our history."

The tone in Malfoy's voice changed slightly. "Oh."

"I was wondering…" Harry looked up at him, trying his best to look into his eyes. The trouble was that they were so grey, it was difficult to continue his act. And… Was it just Harry's imagination or did Malfoy almost look hopeful? "I was just wondering… Could I borrow a quill?"

Malfoy's face fell. "Excuse me?"

"I just need to borrow a quill, but I know how you are with your things. Mine broke and Hermione and Ron don't have extras." Harry tried his best to look innocent.

"I… Yeah, okay." Malfoy dug through his bag and pulled out a white feathered quill. "Here."

Harry reached for it and their hands brushed against each other briefly before the quill was suddenly pulled away.

"Wait… That's all you came here to ask?" Malfoy narrowed his eyes at him. 

"Er… Yeah?" Harry said.

Malfoy sneered. "What are you playing at, Potter?"

Harry blinked, trying to look clueless. "Sorry?"

"What is your damage?" Malfoy practically snarled. The few who were in the library glanced over at them with interest. Malfoy seemed to have noticed because he was suddenly shouting at Harry in a hushed whisper. "You ignore me, push me around and barely show me any common decency for weeks!"

Harry almost corrected him, saying it was only a few days, but he thought better of it. "Oh, so you show me common decency all the time?" Harry challenged.

"I-" Malfoy looked taken back. He quickly regained his composure. "Recently, yes. And it's not as though you've been so cold this year, either. Until now!"

"Oh? Have I been cold, Malfoy?" A sudden surge of confidence hit Harry. He stepped closer to Malfoy, the space between them only inches now. "What would you rather I be, then? Warm?"

"E-excuse me?" Malfoy stuttered.

"You seem to be unhappy with how I've been treating you. Why not enlighten me? How would you like to be treated?" Harry smirked, looking up at Malfoy with heavy eyes. He had no idea where this attitude was coming from, but it was working. He hoped it would last.

"W-wh- I don't care how you treat me!" Malfoy tried to take a step back, but was met with the hardness of the bookshelf behind him.

"You sure?" Harry practically purred. "Because you seemed awfully angry at how rude I've been. And you seemed to have thought I was coming over here for a reason… Other than a quill, of course."

"I… Just thought it was to apologize for your behavior." Malfoy sniffed haughtily.

"Oh? And how would you like me to apologize?" Harry asked. 

He watched Malfoy gulp, staring down at him with wide, intense eyes. His cheeks were pink, slightly darker than his ears. Harry never noticed it before, but he had tiny, almost transparent freckles scattered on his cheekbones. They cascaded slowly towards his nose, where only a few resided on the tip of it. Harry might have counted them if Malfoy didn't open his mouth to speak.

"You…" He started off slowly, as if afraid of what he was going to say, "Should apologize to me by-"

"Harry!" 

Suddenly, a body was wedging itself between them. Dean was smiling down at him, pushing him away from Malfoy.

"I've been looking everywhere for you, mate! Listen, I have this very cute friend who is very interested in you. And since you aren't dating anyone right now, I figured-"

Dean went on like that, blabbing about some random suitor he had lined up. Harry strained to look around him. His heart dropped when he saw Malfoy stomping out the library entrance. 

Dean poked Harry in the arm, "So, what do you think?"

"Huh?"

"Dean!" Seamus popped up behind Harry, making him jump. Seamus ignored him, however, and grabbed Dean by his jacket. "That was cheating!"

Dean snickered, "Where's the rule book?"

Seamus glared at him, "I will make one, so help me Merlin."

"I'd like to see you spend more than five minutes on that."

"I will!" Seamus started dragging Dean away. "And I get to interfere once now, to make it even!"

Harry stared dumbfoundedly at them. He felt two figures come up behind him and a hand clap his shoulder.

"You got really close, Harry," Hermione said sympathetically.

"Yeah, mate. Really good run." Ron chimed in.

Harry nodded solemnly. He was so close. He knew that Malfoy was going to… Well, do something. Ron's plan almost worked, but Harry guessed they just needed more time.

"Hey, look on the bright side, Harry."

"Hm?"

"You bumped right past phase three all the way to phase ten: jealousy!" Ron grinned at him. "On to phase eleven!"

"Oh, Merlin, what's that?" Hermione grimaced.

Ron grinned wickedly, shoving the notes he made under their noses.

Harry groaned.


	6. Chapter 6

“This is beneath me.” Draco sneered, looking disdainfully towards the open potions book.

“Mr. Malfoy, care to share with the class?”

Draco glanced up to Professor Slughorn, pursing his lips with annoyance. “No, Professor. Sorry.”

Slughorn nodded at him, glancing back at the blackboard. A price of chalk was writing for him, suspended in the air.

"Now, this potion is very special indeed." He continued. "Many people use this to help mend their relationships, especially after a bad fight. But don't be afraid of the name. It works for any kind of relationship."

Draco looked back at the potions book.

“Lovers Quarrel.” Draco sneered. “What an idiotic recipe."

He glanced briefly around the class. Potter hadn't shown yet. Not that he cared. Especially since he had the gall to speak to him so crudely in the library. It had been a few days and they hadn't spoken since. Draco spared a look at Weasley and Granger. They had their heads together, whispering like a couple of saps. Doubtful that they would need Lovers Quarrel anytime soon. Draco chuckled at the thought of Potter and him using it on a daily basis.

He gripped the table, suddenly unbalanced at his own boldness. Don't think about your hypothetical future relationship with Potter, you dunce. Draco shook his head. This whole bet fiasco was messing with his sanity. The faster Potter got on with it, the better.

Speaking of, the git had finally entered the classroom. His hair was messier than usual, his bag and robes in disarray. He looked around frantically and found his target, glaring pointedly at the Weasel.

Weasley merely snickered, shrugging at him with cheekiness. Granger stifled a laugh.

"Glad of you to join us, Mr. Potter." Professor Slughorn said, though he seemed a bit too casual about it for Draco's taste. "Go on, find a partner."

Draco looked straight ahead. He wouldn't give Potter the satisfaction of catching him staring.

A chair scrapped the floor beside him.

"What do you think you're doing?" Draco growled.

"Relax, Malfoy. There's no other seats."

Draco looked behind him. Everyone else was already starting on the potion, not an empty chair in sight.

"Fine. Just let me do the work. You never do anything right."

"Whatever." Potter sighed, plopping his bag down and methodically flattening his hair. He wasn't fighting back.

"… What happened to you, anyway?"

"Leave it, Malfoy."

"What? I'm not allowed to ask why you ran in here, looking like a right mess?"

"No."

Draco blinked. He sneered and turned back to his book. "Fine. Sit there and act like a child for all I care."

He slipped the pages angrily, not even sure what he was looking for. Why did Potter have to be so cruel? Hadn't he suffered enough with all these damn rumors and bet stresses? Not to mention the teasing he had to endure in that stupid library. Well, excuse him for acting concerned for once in his life.

"… You'll just be more angry if I tell you."

Draco glanced down at him. He was slumped over the desk, his head resting over folded arms. He was scowling at nothing in particular.

Draco chuckled, making Potter look up. "I'll be angry no matter what."

Potter grinned. Draco felt something flip in his stomach and cleared his throat. "So? What was it."

"Ron told a bunch of first years I was signing autographs." He bit his lip, his face going sour.

"No wonder he and Granger were laughing," Draco smirked. They could be funny when they tried.

"Gits," Potter mumbled.

"Why'd they sick them on you?"

"Er…" Potter fidgeted in his seat. "Not sure."

"Well, they forced you next to me, so I guess they owe you one now." Draco grimaced.

Potter shrugged, flashing him a wicked smile, "Or maybe I owe them."

"Wh-" Draco went pink, quickly looking back at the potions book. "Just help me with this damn potion, Potter."

He pouted, "I thought I didn't have to do anything."

"Yes, well. Now you do." Draco glared at him. Potter merely winked in response, making Draco flush brighter. This was going to be a long class…

\--

"We need to find ways to seclude you both." Ron had said excitedly. He had clasped his hands together like he was unraveling his own devious plot. Harry had no idea that this meant torturing him just to get him slightly alone with Draco Malfoy.

Sure, sitting next to Malfoy in potions was nice. But Harry wasn't sure it was worth dozens of tiny eleven-year-olds trampling him a few minutes prior. Luckily Slughorn was still the potions teacher. Anyone else would have given him an immediate detention.

Harry looked over at the bubbling cauldron.

"So what is this supposed to do?"

"Once again, Potter: it helps fix relationships." Draco rolled his eyes, but his cheeks were still red from earlier. "Merlin, you'd think reading would be the least you could do. Especially since I'm practically making this myself."

"I tried to help. You said I 'cut toad gills wrong'. They're already cut up, Malfoy."

Malfoy stuck his nose in the air. "And yet you managed to do it wrong."

"Ugh." Harry sat back down in his seat. He pretended to read the potions book as he stole glances of Malfoy. His hair was falling in front of his face from the cauldrons fumes. He would huff the tufts of hair away, but moments later they would fall right back. Harry held back a smile.

Then, a thought came to him.

"Do we have to test these out?"

Malfoy stopped stirring the pot, blinking rapidly. "No…" He looked at Harry, unsure. "No, right? He never said anything about tasting it."

Harry straightened, looking up to the front of class. The blackboard has mostly standard rules and guidelines. The bottom of it reads "if done correctly, you and your partner will be testing it out!"

"Uhm, are you making it right?" Harry asked tentatively.

"Of course I am! I'm excellent at potions, I'll have you know-"

Harry pointed at the board. Malfoy read the phrase once, then his eyes scanned it again.

"Still making it right?"

Malfoys mouth fell open ever so slightly. "But… My grade…"

Harry grinned, "You sound like Hermione."

He glared at him for that. "She's not the only one that cares about succeeding, Potter."

Harry sighed. "Fine. Just make the damn thing. Maybe now we'll stop fighting." He grinned.

"Tch," Malfoy clicked his tongue, looking away. Harry could still see his ears pinken. Cute… Harry rubbed his neck, willing that thought to go away and focusing back on the potions book.

Professor Slughorn walked slowly around the tables, nodding with vigor at the ones who made Lovers Quarrel correctly and looking sympathetically at the ones who didn't. He circled the classroom, making it to Malfoy and Harry last. He smiled and clapped Harry on the back. "Well done, Harry!"

Malfoy glowered at Slughorns hand, pursing his lips. Harry opened his mouth to explain that he barely did anything, but Slughorn was already walking to the front of the room.

"Alright, everyone take a small sip of your potion. The magic is connected through the batch, so no trading!"

Harry looked apprehensively towards the cauldron. He glanced back at Malfoy who was staring at him intently. Malfoy quickly looked down at the potion after being caught.

"Well, ready when you are," Malfoy mumbled.

Harry nodded, taking a spoon and scooping some out. He tentatively brought it to his lips and let it slide into his mouth. It tasted bittersweet, like dark chocolate and raspberries.

"It's good," Harry said, mildly surprised.

Malfoy snatched the spoon from him and dipped it into the cauldron, "Of course it is. I made it." He took a small sip, dropping the spoon immediately.

"Okay, now what?"

"We wait."

"For what?"

"For it to, I don't know, fix our 'relationship'." Malfoy rolled his eyes.

"We'll need a lot more than a taste for that."

Malfoy looked at him unamused as Harry chuckled.

"I'm kidding. You know I love our dumb banter."

"Oh." Malfoy looked taken back. "I do, too."

"Oh."

They stood there awkwardly.

"Was… Was that the potion?"

"Not sure." Harry glanced around the room. Some students had started fighting in hushed tones while others we smiling from ear to ear, laughing adamantly. Ron and Hermione were looking into each other's eyes, their hands intertwined.

"Gross." Malfoy and Harry said together. Harry snapped back around at Malfoy, both of them looking confused. After a split second, Harry snorts and Malfoy snickers along with him.

"Didn't know you hated your own best mates." Malfoy grinned.

"Only when they do crap like that around me all the time. It gets stifling." Harry sighed, feeling a bit guilty.

"Well, I guess I can see the appeal of holding hands all the time. Seems… nice, I guess." Malfoy shrugged.

Harry reached out to touch Malfoys hand. "I wouldn't mind holding your hand for that long."

"Really?"

Harry glanced up to see Malfoy's eyes shining. He looked utterly vulnerable. Harry smiled, taking Malfoys hand in his.

"Yeah."

Malfoy smiled softly. Harry had never seen such a kind face on him before.

"You know… Recently, it seems like you've just been playing with me." Malfoy murmured. "I've never thought of you to play games before."

Harry sighed. "I know… It's just, Ron's been butting in to everything and it just seems… Unnatural. I dunno, maybe this whole bet thing is dumb."

Malfoys face fell. "Oh."

"I mean, that’s not to say-! I just meant-"

"Alright, everyone!" Professor Slughorn clapped his hands together. "You can all finish your tearful apologies and happy beginnings in your next class. Although, the potion will probably wear off in the next five minutes. Please empty your cauldrons and clean up your things."

Malfoy snatched away his hand, quickly cleaning up his things.

"Malfoy-"

"Save it." He turned on his heel, striding out.

Harry groaned, slumping against the table. Ron and Hermione walked up to him, still holding hands.

"So, Harry," Ron playfully nudged him in the side. "How did your potion work?"

Harry sighed, looking at the spot where Malfoy had disappeared.

"It didn't."


	7. Chapter 7

Harry lay in his bed, face up and with his arm stretched out above him. He stared at his hand, moving it about slowly, the warmth of Malfoy still present.

“Harry? You awake?” Ron whispered from his bed.

Harry hesitated. He didn’t much care for Ron at the moment, what with the phases and tricks. He answered nevertheless.

“Yeah…”

“Sorry about today, mate.”

“…Yeah.” Harry sighed.

“Maybe we can try-”

“Ron, please.” He rolled on his side to squint at him in the dark. “No more phases. No more plans.”

Ron made an impatient noise, accompanied by the sound of bed sheets, and suddenly he was at the foot of Harry’s bed.

“Then what do you want to do? Asking him out right at this point won’t work.”

Harry sat up, rubbing the back of his neck. “You don’t think I know that?”

Ron shrugged. “I don’t really know what’s going through your head. Do you even want to win this bet?”

“Not really…”

“Then why are we still bloody doing this?”

Harry looked down at his lap. He clenched his hands together, his knuckles white even in the dark.

“I don’t know.”

He looked up to see Ron staring at him.

“What?” Harry said defensively.

Ron shook his head. “Hermione was right. She didn’t think you could go through with this.”

“Why not?”

Ron grinned at him, “You never liked people telling you what to do, mate. Even if what they wanted was what you wanted too.”

Harry blinked. “That’s not true.”

“It is.”

“S’not.”

Ron snorted, “Alright. Fine.”

“… And if it was, I already told you I never wanted to date Malfoy.”

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that one.” Ron stood up and stretched, “You know I was there for potions class. I saw how you look at him.”

“That was the damn potion.”

“No, mate,” Ron shook his head, smirking. “You’ve had that dumb look for him way before any kind of potion.”

Before Harry could retort, Ron was already waving him off. “I’m going to sleep now. Go down stairs if you’re gonna keep tossing and turning.”

Harry rolled his eyes, “Yeah, maybe I will.”

He could hear Ron snicker as he pulled on his slippers and snuck out of the dormitory.

\--

Draco hadn't moved from his bed since he ran from Potions. And, subsequently, Potter. His hair was completely mussed. He couldn't stop running his hands through it as he thought about the words they exchanged. He had replayed the scene so many times in his head that it was unrecognizable at this point. Draco was convinced Potter had snatched his hand away from him, calling him unnatural and going on about how idiotic the bet was becoming. Is that what really happened? Draco wasn't sure. The scene replayed again. This time Potter snarled at him.

"Ugh," Draco shook his head. He needed air. Maybe even a refreshment from the kitchens. Tossing back his sheets, he threw on his robe and slippers, quietly walking out of his dormitory. He got halfway through the common room before he froze. For a moment he was sure it was a hallucination. Then Potter scratched his head, making his hair stand on end, and Draco knew this could only be the cruel reality.

Potter didn't notice him. It would be so easy to walk a few more steps and leave without a trace. Draco glanced at the exit, so tempted to take those strides and never see Harry “rat nest hair” Potter again, but he made the mistake of taking one last look at him. Shoulders slumped, picking at his obnoxious Gryffindor pajamas, he heaved a sigh and sunk further into the couch.

Draco cursed inwardly.

“No beauty sleep for you, Potter?”

He jumped, turning wide eyed at him. “Malfoy.”

“Hm.” Draco raised an unamused eyebrow and strode over to the chair across from him, sitting down with a flourish. He chastised himself once he realized he was trying to gain back some dignity after the earlier spout they had.

“… Couldn’t sleep either?” Potter rubbed the back of his neck.

“I… No, not really.” Draco shifted in his seat, staring at the glowing fireplace.

“Why not?”

“None of you business, Potter.”

“Was it because of me?”

“No.”

There was a small pause. Draco heard Potter move in his seat. He turned to glance at him, but jumped slightly when he saw Potter standing a few inches away.

He plopped down, sitting with crossed legs facing Draco’s chair. “I couldn’t sleep because of you.”

“Oh.” Draco responded dumbly.

“You know, when I said what I said it came out wrong.”

“That tends to happen with you.” Draco meant to say it harshly, but it came out soft. Something flashed across Potters face and he could feel his neck warm up.

“Sorry.”

“Why can’t you ever say what you mean?” Draco blurted.

Potter raised an eyebrow, “That’s rich coming from you.”

He raised his nose in the air, huffing. “I’m a Slytherin, it doesn’t count.”

“Of course.” Potter rolled his eyes. “Besides, I do say what I mean. It just… comes out oddly, is all.”

Draco pursed his lips.

“Sorry I can’t be as well spoken as you, Malfoy.”

“No one can, but that doesn’t mean they shouldn’t try.”

“Brilliant. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Draco smiled, shaking his head. He glanced back at the fireplace. The embers were cascading a soft glow throughout the room. Gentle red light danced across the floor. Something touched his hand and he looked over to see the light caressing Potters face, golden shards refracting off his stupid round glasses.

He grabbed them with his other hand and set them on the nearest stand.

“Why’d you do that.” Potter murmured.

“They’re hideous on you.”

Potter smiled, “What happened to saying what you mean?”

“Prat.”

“That one I believe.”

Then, just as the last ember dimmed, Potter kissed him. And Draco had all the warmth he needed.


	8. Chapter 8

Harry woke up the next day in a daze. He wasn’t sure if the night before was real. He closed his eyes, desperately replaying the scene over and over.

_“Potter,” Malfoy whispered between their lips._

_“Hm?” Harry wasn’t paying attention, too distracted with touching as much of Malfoy as he could. Lips, jaw, neck, collarbone. He caressed him in the moonlight, trailing chaste kisses anywhere that was closest to him. Which was relatively easy seeing as Malfoy was perched perfectly in his lap._

_Malfoy seemed to struggle with his words as Harry curved his neck up so that he could kiss just above his Adam’s apple. “Potter, please.”_

_Harry begrudgingly leaned back. “What’s wrong?”_

_“Nothing, I just think it’s getting late,” He avoided his gaze, staring once again at the extinguished fireplace._

_“I would counter that it’s getting early,” Harry quipped, but the other merely smiled weakly._

_“… Malfoy. What’s wrong.”_

_“It’s late, Potter.”_

_“Fine,” Harry started moving Malfoy off his lap._

_“Wait, no, no.”_

_Harry looked at him unamused, an eyebrow raised._

_Malfoy made a sound in the back of his throat, “Ugh, I’m just…”_

_Harry watched him intently. Patient. Possibly for the first time in his life._

_Draco finally sighed. “The bet.”_

_“Oh,” Harry’s stomach twisted. ”What about it?”_

_“Well, that’s what I was going to ask you…” Malfoy looked at him now, his eyes open and unsure._

_Harry shrugged, “Does it really matter?”_

Harry opened his eyes, staring up at the ceiling of his canopy. _Does it really matter_ , he thought. _I’m such an idiot._

Immediately after the words left his mouth, Malfoy's face had hardened and he had left in a huff, despite Harry’s calls to him.

Harry groaned, grabbing his pillow to shove into his face.

“Harry?” He heard the curtain to his left swoop open. “Harry, what the bloody hell are you doing?”

“Umommng.”

“Move the pillow, you git.”

“Wallowing.”

Ron furrowed his brows at him. “I know yesterday didn’t go so well, but that doesn’t mean we’re sunk, mate.”

“Not about potions, Ron… I bumped into Malfoy last night.”

Ron’s eyebrows shot up to his hair so fast for a moment Harry thought they had disappeared. “What happened?”

Harry opened his mouth, but Ron quickly shook his head, “No, wait. Save it for when Hermione is with us.”

Harry cringed, “How much you want to bet she yells at me.”

“A galleon she gives you her disappointed mum look.”

“Deal,” Harry sighed.

—

“Oh, Harry,” Hermione hung her head and shook it, briefly looking up at him with regret in her eyes.

“Called it,” Ron grinned.

They all sat in the common room. The fire place was alight once more, though not many students were there to appreciate its warmth.

“Ron, you should be disappointed in him, too.”

“Why? He’s right.”

“Ron,” Hermione said, her eyes comically wide with shock.

“What?” Ron put his hands up defensively, “The bet doesn’t really matter anymore. They’re not exactly dating, but who cares?”

“Well,” Hermione said slowly. Harry groaned internally. It was the voice she used when she was trying to explain something simple to them. “Malfoy probably does, for one.”

Harry and Ron glanced at each other, realization dawning on them.

“Shite.”

“Yeah,” Hermione said, trying (and failing) to not look so smug.

“So, what, he thinks I don’t want to date him?” Harry felt scrambled. “That’s idiotic. Why else would I have been going through all this trouble? Between Ron’s bloody phases and my advances, how could he possibly think that?”

Ron shrugged, “You have always said you’ve never wanted to date Malfoy.”

A rock dropped in Harry’s stomach. All the buzzing in his head silenced and for once in his stupid life he had a clue.

“It’s never been serious for me.” Harry blinked. “In his eyes, it’s never been serious for me. The whole bet is what’s been driving me towards him and that’s all he sees. He doesn’t know that I…” Harry trailed off, suddenly aware that he was saying all this out loud. He glanced at the other two. Hermione was smiling at him, her face warm and understanding. Ron, on the other hand, looked like someone had stolen the last biscuit.

“Well?” He demanded.

“W-what?” Harry said, taken aback.

“Are you going to go find Malfoy or are you just going to sit there with your mouth hanging open?”

Hermione and Harry stared, eyes wide.

“Merlin, Ron. I really _am_ rubbing off on you.” Hermione said. For a moment she looked proud.

Harry clenched his fists and nodded. He shot up from his seat, not bothering to grab his things as he sprinted out the entrance way. A couple paintings yelled after him to slow down, but he ignored them. It was still technically breakfast time. Maybe he could catch Malfoy there.

He skidded into the Great Hall, looking around for blonde hair and pale skin. But he found nothing. Before he turned to leave, he spotted two particular Gryffindors.

“Dean. Seamus.” He panted.

“Harry! So, any updates-?”

“Call it off.”

“What?” Dean said.

“Call off the bet. I don’t want to do it anymore.”

“Wait, so your forfeiting?” Dean grinned with glee.

“No. Not forfeiting. Ending this. No winners or losers. No bet at all.” Harry said determinedly.

Seamus furrowed his brows. “What? But you were getting so close.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m not doing it anymore.”

Dean and Seamus glanced at each other, as if they were speaking telepathically. They begrudgingly sighed.

“Fine. Bet’s off.” Seamus said.

“Thank you.” Harry turned and started for the Slytherin table. He approached Parkinson and Zabini, barely paying attention to the stares he was collecting.

“Potter,” Parkinson said before he could open his mouth. Her face looked smug.

“Parkinson,” Harry started.

“He’s going to the astronomy tower. He likes to think there.” She said, beating him to the question.

“More like pout,” Zabini smirked, his voice perpetually quiet and dry.

“I… Thank you,” Harry said. He turned on his heel once more and headed for the tower. He heard a distant ‘Good luck!’ behind him as he started running.

He sprinted down the corridors, looking for any hint of Malfoy. He was almost at the tower when he saw a flash of white hair turn a corner. He quickly followed it, stopping abruptly once he found a slender figure in the hall.

“Malfoy!”

Malfoy turned, jumping a bit at the sudden outburst. His eyes narrowed when he recognized who it was and continued walking.

“Wait, Malfoy,” Harry moved to quickly grab at his arm.

“Sod off, Potter,” He spat, wrenching himself out of his grasp.

“Malfoy, please, listen to me.” Harry begged.

“Save it, Potter-“

“I mean it, Draco!”

Malfoy froze, the air around them tense and still. Harry realized then how deep his breaths were, most likely from the mixture of the running and the nervousness coursing through him.

“I’ve never cared about this bet.” Harry said to his back, “Never. I didn’t care who won or who lost. The only reason I agreed to it was to get closer to you.”

Malfoy didn’t respond. Didn’t move.

“I treated it like a game because I didn’t know what else to do. I was so desperate to be near you, I played with your feelings instead. I don’t want to date you like this. I called off the bet. If you still don’t want to be with me, I’m fine with that. But I had to at least ask. Without the games.”

Malfoy still didn’t move. Harry waited for a response, but received nothing.

“Erm… Well?”

Malfoy turned slowly, with an expression Harry couldn’t recognize.

“You said you had to ask.”

“Huh?”

“You haven’t given me a question, Potter.”

“Oh!” Harry felt a pang of embarrassment, but quickly shook it off. He inhaled, breath shaky and eyes closed.

“Draco Malfoy, will you go on a da-?”

Malfoy was on him before he could finish, wrapping his arms around his neck and pressing their lips together. His eyes flew open in surprise as he lost his balance, Malfoy toppling over him in the process. Harry cringed at a dull pain in the back of his head, but was quickly distracted by the odd noise coming from the other. Was he… was Malfoy laughing?

He looked up, the air leaving his lungs at the sight. Malfoy was giggling - _giggling_ \- on top of him. His hair fell to frame his face. From this angle, Harry could see every single freckle scattered about his cheeks and nose, perfectly contrasted by the steadily growing pink on his skin.

“You complete idiot, Harry Potter.”

Harry flushed, everything from his fingers to his toes grew warm.

“You didn’t let me ask the question,” Harry said meekly.

Malfoy grinned,“You were taking too long.”

“After all the trouble I went through just to say it.”

“Fine.” Malfoy tilted his head, leaning down to just barely brush their lips together.

“Ask.”

“Draco Malfoy, will-?”

But he never got to finish.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you don't want to wait, feel free to read the rest on my blog: I-see-my-otps-in-erised.tumblr.com


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